


Mindgames - Missing/Deleted/Extra Scenes

by IreneClaire, Swifters



Series: Devil's Games [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Deleted Scenes, Drug-Induced Sex, Drugged Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Danny, Kidnapped Danny "Danno" Williams, M/M, Missing Scene, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Protective Steve McGarrett, Psychological Torture, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Triggers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-04 11:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13363770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneClaire/pseuds/IreneClaire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swifters/pseuds/Swifters
Summary: A series of deleted/omitted/extra snippets from the story thus far which we've decided to add as we get back into the swing of things on the core tale.The hiatus has been an unfortunate necessity because .... well ... sometimes "real life" just is what it is.  But we're warming back up and plan to regain our momentum slowly but surely and appreciate everyone's understanding.In the meantime, we hope you enjoy these little gems. ;-)





	1. Extra Scene #1:  Arriving at the Penthouse (I.C.)

**Author's Note:**

> We "still" do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement will EVER be intended.
> 
> Extra Scene #1: Arriving at the Penthouse
> 
> Extra scene occurring between Steve's house after the ploy early on, Danny being spirited away in the SUV for the first time .... and how McCann set the stage in the penthouse for what was to come. Warnings apply.

**Extra Scene #1:  Arriving at the Penthouse** _(by I.C.)_

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

Hefted between two of McCann's men, unconscious and still unnecessarily blinded by the hood, Danny was carried from the large SUV to the hotel's private elevator in the rear of the parking garage. At mid day, no one was around, leaving Spenser McCann the privilege of watching his men hustle his latest possession up to the confines of his spacious suite. He walked in their wake, confident and at ease. A soft, pleased smile on his lips.

"Quickly," he said. "Quickly gentlemen." The admonition was far from being necessary. No one was there to see them. No security cameras even functioned in the rambling cool concrete of the underground. In fact, the place was so empty, so professionally secured by McCann himself, the 5-0 detective didn't need to be especially hidden. The reality was that McCann's softly slurred demand had much more to do with his eagerness than with any feelings of caution. Still, he and his men moved rapidly and with a high efficiency. Scarcely twenty minutes after their operation had concluded at Commander McGarrett's residence and a mere two minutes after parking, the deed was done and McCann was eagerly instructing his men on where to place Danny in the large living area of his private penthouse.

"Sit him on the sofa. Take the hood off," McCann instructed the two and then turned to one in particular while a few loitered nearby to watch the continued goings on with a keen interest. "Leon, you're to help me get rid of his things … make him more comfortable … to my liking. Then after, you can have off like the rest of the men. Get what I need from the bedroom, it's all laid out."

He didn't need to add any more to his statements. He certainly didn't have to. All of his men knew his intentions and as their real mission came to a point of criticality, their only interest was catering to their phlegmatic boss' needs and gaining some unexpected time of their own because they'd have none at all over the next few weeks. If their boss wanted his own night of RR, an occasional diversion to blow off his own steam between ops, then so be it. The benefits to their own welfare would be far more numerous.

McCann scarcely glanced up as Leon, the one he'd handpicked to be his unlucky personal gopher, stalked silently from the room coming back a moment later with a new pair of clothes in hand. He only had eyes on his prize and a list of plans rattling inside his head.

"First things, first, petal," McCann said as he walked closer towards Danny and knelt down to take off one shoe, then the other. Each was laid to the side, socks following to be tucked within them. McCann stood then and with Leon's help, took off Danny's shirt, folding it just so. With utmost care, McCann continued on. He began to undress Danny as if unwrapping a precious gift, layer by layer. But he paused after unfastening Danny's slacks, the belt and weapons' holster already gone, his eyes now pitch black as he looked at the remaining men scattered about the suite. Only one or two had the courtesy to actually look away from the lurid proceedings.

"Leon stays," McCann said. "All of you, out. Now. Normal check-ins; do anything stupid with my generous gift of _time_ and you'll answer to me."

To his right, Leon stood rock solid as the men left the penthouse suite in pre-defined pairs, just waiting, head held stoically high. The big man ignored the few snide remarks made at his expense as the door was closed, but he was scarcely holding back his own displeasure as McCann began to tug at Danny's slacks, removing them entirely and handing them over to Leon to be neatly folded with the rest of Danny's belongings.

"Pick him up... I want these off," McCann whispered hoarsely as the boxer briefs came last, leaving Danny now completely naked and even more at McCann's devious whim. "My, my …just look at you," the mercenary added under his breath as he gazed appreciatively at Danny's body. He licked his lips in anticipation, tiny dots of sweat beading his forehead. "This will certainly have been worth the wait."

He hastily dabbed at his forehead with the back of his hand, his only sign of awkwardness, before gesturing across the sofa. "I want him there … Here like this," he insisted, forcing Leon to maneuver Danny's limp body just as he wanted along the length of soft leather and braced against a mound of plush pillows.

"What about the other clothes?" Leon asked, partly turned away to avoid having to look at the way McCann's hands were now moving over the hapless detective's body.

"Soon … soon," McCann murmured distractedly as his fingers were finally given free rein to pander the full breadth of Danny's chest, his exposed neck and then lower across his abdomen, to the softer inner skin of his hips and thighs. He boldly inspected Danny lower still, his tongue snaking hungrily out over his lips, his breath catching in his throat while palming, pressing and fondling, taking his time to savor and rudely tease what was now his to enjoy ... and use.

 _Soon indeed._ He grinned when Danny groaned softly at an unusually hard tug, his brow briefly furrowed. _Soon ... yes._ Unsure if he now meant the clothes or what he had planned for the long evening ahead, he smiled to himself. It didn't matter. He was pleased with the findings of his examination and he sat down on the edge of the sofa, breathless, his lips once more curved into a greedy smile. He'd selected well. Training up the former officer to kneel by his side, conquering his petulant behavior - breaking him bit by bit - would prove to be an enticing game of wills. Nevertheless, McCann frowned as he remembered the day: the football match was another guilty pleasure of his. Another diversion nicely timed to round out the night.

"When does the game start?" He asked unexpectedly and without turning round to face his lackey. He leaned forward instead, his fingers lightly tracing the ridges of Danny's ribs before changing trajectory to gently toy with his hair, then trace the juncture of his lips, a finger delving in.

"Game?" Leon repeated. McCann narrowed his eyes, the only warning that his temper might flare with Leon's ignorance. He pulled his moistened finger from between his pet's slightly parted lips and stared into Leon's face.

"The soccer match … What. Time?" McCann said again, his teeth almost gritted. "Two hours? Is it in about two hours? Because, my _pet_ here will be sleeping just long enough if I've timed it right … just long enough indeed."

"Uh, yeah. Sorry … I-I wasn't thinking," Leon stuttered slightly. "Two hours and ten, boss. Pre-game commentary is on though."

"Good. Put the television on and help me dress him then," McCann said, changing course on a dime. His tone was suddenly indifferent. "The blue shirt. Give it to me."

With the hum of the tv now his backdrop, he got to his feet in one smooth motion, crudely adjusting the obvious bulge through the material of his black jeans. He grinned in amusement when Leon noticed and looked away quickly, his Adam's apple bobbing uncomfortably.

"He's something to look at it, isn't he?" McCann purred, intentionally spinning the big man's reaction. "Don't envy him though do you, Leon? His … new purpose? His new … _life ... to please me_?"

"Uh, no, Sir," Leon replied as he helped maneuver the soft cotton t-shirt on over Danny's head. His expression was unreadable as he helped McCann with the pair of dove-gray, sleep pants. "He's _yours_ now, Sir."

"That he is … that, he is, and I plan to use him well," McCann remarked with a chuckle as he ran his fingers possessively over Danny's lips once more before turning and clapping a friendly hand on Leon's shoulder, surprising the man.

"You can leave now, Leon," he stated calmly. "But take those old things with you; dispose of them. _Completely_. Incinerate them, Leon. Understand? Get them gone … not a trace. Then take some time for yourself … check in later. Much, much later; I'll need you then."

McCann smiled at the blandness of Leon's expression and the curt nod of understanding. He knew Leon was hiding annoyance at being relegated to that of his pet's keeper. But in reality, the job was an important one. At least to him.

Grinning widely as the penthouse door clicked shut, his full attention focused solely on his prey, McCann began to shed his own clothing. He had hours to go yet before Danny might rouse to the level he wanted. But like the pre-game rundown, there were still things to learn; a warmup of what was to come ... his evening's special events were only just beginning.

 

_**~ End.~** _


	2. Extra Scene #2:   Leon - The Day After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extra Scene #2: Leon - The Day After
> 
> Extra scene occurring after McCann's first evening with Danny and imagining Leon's role / orders in how to manage his duties afterwards. 
> 
> Warnings apply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We "still" do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement will EVER be intended.

**Extra Scene #2:   Leon - The Day After** _(by I.C.)_

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

Leon was one of the first men back on site. The very first had actually not gone too far, nor for very long. Tasked as McCann's personal bodyguards, their reprieve had been exceedingly short. Leon knew they'd be stationed outside the penthouse suite doors before the elevator even opened and he knew that they'd be well aware of his unenviable job. So instead of ignoring them, he stared at the two men as the doors slid open with a soft hum of sound, eyes already blazing, blatantly daring them to do more than glance his way.

He entered the suite, his nose automatically wrinkling in distaste at the faint sour undertones. Standing by the large bank of windows overlooking downtown, Spenser McCann was already up, neatly dressed and perfectly groomed. He partially turned to acknowledge Leon while continuing the intense conversation he was managing on the burner. From the seriousness of McCann's expression, Leon didn't need to question the content of that call. It had everything to do with the scope of their larger mission. The two scientists. The dirty bomb. Leon had no doubts that something was afoot and McCann would be out of pocket for a few hours that very day.

McCann paused ever so slightly to raise an eyebrow and smile, his expression satisfied, his tone on the phone serious, but jovial. Leon noted that his boss was in a good mood. He was back on point, plotting and planning and, though Leon would much rather be involved with this real mission, McCann was now gesturing meaningfully towards the floor on the opposite side of the sofa. Disappointing as it was, Leon's job this time around was very specific.

Features schooled, Leon gave a curt nod in reply. McCann's orders in regard to the Five-0 detective had been spelled out to him well in advance. Keep this new pet secure, fed and watered. Provide the occasional drug or two, and most importantly, keep him in the dark. No more, no less. Leon hated it, but he had no choice in the matter. And quite frankly, Leon would make it work if it kept him close to McCann and the inner circle. Then, just maybe, he'd finally be able to get some solid intel to bring the powerful conglomerate down. So without much of a choice but to do as McCann demanded, Leon was determined to deal with whatever waited for him on the other side of the sofa.

But he stopped dead when he saw the 5-0 detective virtually discarded on the floor. Laid out on his side, hunched into a weak parody of a fetal position, tremors were rippling through the man's abused body and Leon wavered. Badly, nearly losing his focus.

" _Jesus_ ," he muttered without thinking. If McCann had been meticulous about himself that morning, he'd been anything but that with this new toy. The evidence was irrefutable. And even though he'd seen the aftermath inflicted upon many of McCann's so-called _diversions_ \- and even that of Walker's much worse abuses - this wasn't precisely what Leon had assumed he'd find upon arriving back on duty.

"Jesus," Leon whispered again under his breath as he eyed the unconscious man, cataloging the bite marks, bloody smears, livid bruises and the extent of the filth covering his body. He didn't often let his emotions percolate to the surface and now, unable to help himself, Leon dragged his hands over his face in an attempt to get his brain re-kickstarted. The odors were strong and there were too many stains to count, but the half-dried slick of vomit was clear enough to identify and Leon didn't have to wonder why. He was suddenly having an issue keeping his own gorge down. Still at a loss by the sight before him, Leon glanced over towards McCann completely unable to hide just how startled he was, but the mercenary was back to staring out over the skyline, engrossed in his call. Leon visibly flinched when the man laughed at some joke or another, the rumble seductive and deep.

 _Walker_. McCann was in deep conversation with his 2IC ...and lover.

In that moment, Leon thought hard about pulling the plug on his mission; contacting his people and getting the hell out of there. He'd been under for over a year, slowly crawling his way up McCann's rickety ladder and he'd finally done it. _Fine_ , he didn't quite have the role he'd hoped for in the organization after the time and risks invested, but sometimes being one of a key few and somewhat on the fringes of the inner circle could be good enough.

 _This though?_    Leon breathed in thickly through his nose, hands clenched into fists as McCann's voice trundled on so calmly. _This_? Leon had done a great many things which strayed more black than even gray, but even he had a certain moral line. A slim, slender one with more than a few cracks here and there. But it existed. Such a line didn't exist for the likes of Spenser McCann or Dylan Walker. He faltered again when the abused man at his feet softly moaned, twitched, and Leon's eyes flickered over to the stains, the yellowing vomit. Behind him, McCann's voice rose and fell with an arrogant confidence and Leon bristled angrily.

 _No_  ... no. _No_ , he'd put too much time in; one more of McCann's  _toys_ meant nothing in the mix of things. And though he sometimes had trouble remembering what it was, Leon refocused on the greater good of his mission and he regained his equilibrium with a cold, ruthless mental shake. He had a job to do. Period. There was no more to this story. Nothing. 

Besides, this was not his call. What was happening here was not his call and he would not be within his rights to pull the plug on a mission of this size and importance. There was far too much at risk.  His people would be well in the know about Commander McGarrett's situation and his 2IC's plight. If there were to be new edicts, Leon would be duly informed and instructed. Until then, if it ever happened, he would stay his course.

Knowing he wasn't going to get anymore out of his boss and back on task, Leon went to the smallest bedroom within the large penthouse. Already setup for its newest unfortunate guest, meaning it lacked virtually everything except for a bed, side table and lamp, Leon took a light blanket back to the main living area. He laid it over the shivering form and then stalked to the main entry where he opened the door. The two guards were quietly conversing together.

"I need one of you," he said brusquely. "Inside." Without waiting for a reply and knowing he had at least some clout with them, he turned-on his heel and waited by the sofa.

"What?" The responding guard asked as he joined Leon. He glanced down at the blanketed body and frowned, already guessing. "What? Him?"

"We're going to move him to the bedroom," Leon said. "Take his legs."

He didn't provide any other instructions nor offer explanation. Leon didn't need to and he certainly had no interest in small talk. He ignored the guard's disgusted look as he bent down and rolled the detective onto his back, making sure the light blanket would stay in place for the brief move.

"He got a pounding didn't he?" The guard remarked nastily as he also bent down, took up Danny's legs, and lifted on Leon's monotone count.

Leon glanced briefly towards his counterpart. The guard couldn't even see half of what the detective had endured due to the blanket. He seemed oblivious to the disarray and mess left behind. But the partial question was true enough; worsened when the detective quietly moaned under their combined hands, a weak reactive struggle, short-lived.

"Boss had a good time?" Another non-question, the man's tone straddled a fine line of sarcasm and awe as they began a slow sideways walk to the bedroom. In just those few minutes, Leon was annoyed that the younger of the two guards had opted to help him. He could have done without the commentary. He was even unbothered by Leon's continued silence, smirking rudely over the blond's condition after they'd laid him on the bed and Leon removed the light blanket in favor of the bed-sheet.

At the foot of the bed, the guard lingered and sneered as Leon threw the sheet up over the blond's shoulders, the man moaning softly while crawling mindlessly back into a fetal position even while virtually unconscious. Once more on his side, the tremors were clearly visible even under the sheet and Leon couldn't help shaking his head.

"Poor bastard," the guard scoffed as he picked up on Leon's reaction. He shrugged when he finally caught Leon's eye, smiling then. "Come on! You gotta agree … this is justice, right? A cop. Especially this cop … a damned _cop_ off the Hawiaan Governor's task force? McGarrett's fucking Second in Comand? Shit, Leon! What a fine fucking message this will send! Can you imagine what's going to hit the fan when McGarrett dies too, too? There's nothing McCann can't do, is there? Pure genius. Pure fucking genius."

"Yeah, yeah ... he is that." Leon had to at least murmur a sound or something of agreement about all of that. It was all true. McCann was indeed a genius and there didn't seem to be a damned thing the man wasn't able to pull off, have done or do himself. But right then? As they left the bedroom, all Leon wanted to do - right then and there - was wash his hands.

 

_**~ End. ~** _


	3. Extra Scene #3:    An early escape attempt ... clean-shaven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timestamp sometime between Chapters 10 and 13; after the toothbrush incident, after learning about Officer Davies and the ongoing threat to his family, but before the ill-fated phone call attempt during the storm to Steve when Danny decides/realizes that McCann was far too powerful and that he couldn't go home. Prompted by this sentence in the main story: He’d also learned to sit motionless, chin raised, while Leon clean-shaved him the way McCann liked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This extra scene doesn't have an easy title per se; really .. it's early on when Danny thought he might have hope to escape or get to a phone.

**Extra Scene #3:    An early escape attempt ... clean-shaven. _(by I.C.)_**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

He'd made a mistake. With only escape - and getting back to his family - on his mind, Danny had made a terrible, terrible mistake. He also now knew that the entire event that morning had been staged; he'd been set up to make a choice as a test of his obedience. And, similarly to how the incident with the toothbrush had gone down, in the end, Danny had summarily failed. He'd chosen wrongly. And now, as he was made to kneel in the middle of the large sterile bathroom, he couldn't muffle the wild sound of each raspy breath or the way he was still shaking from top to bottom. Once more on full display, Danny felt a familiar surge of claustrophobic-like panic racing through every one of his muscles. He was desperate, utterly trapped as he ever was and once again, McCann was in a rage because of what he'd tried to do no matter that he'd been beautifully set up.

"I would hate for Leon to miss," McCann crooned softly off to his right. "I suggest you hold still; do as he says, pet."

Eyes focused on a spot on Leon's shoulder and with hands clasped shakily behind his back, Danny argued his urges to simultaneously run away or murder Spenser McCann with the razor blade which Leon was holding in his hands. Even though he was sure that he would be made to suffer far worse after he'd been shaved to McCann's liking, Danny was hardly able to keep his tongue in check. But he had to, he _had_ to as McCann droned on proving that his promises were so much more than mere words.

"May this be one more lesson to you," McCann suddenly said. "Did you really think I'd be so lax as to leave the front door wide open to you, pet?" He paused to laugh softly, almost in admiration. "You did get farther than I thought and I must commend you for your tenacity. But Danno, you failed in my little test and well, after we're done here, there will be a price to pay. You must learn that I mean what I say; that I will follow through on each and every promise I make to you, pet. And as such, when you're bad, there will be a hefty price to pay."

Danny inhaled sharply, his breathing still refusing to adopt a cadence as McCann circled him lobbing instructions, threats and warnings. His mind was in a turmoil as he imagined another call to Officer Davies ... Walker set loose on his daughter. Something or someone gaining access to the hospital in a blatant attack against his badly wounded partner.

"Please ...," Danny whispered brokenly as he dared glance towards McCann. The man's eyes narrowed in angry warning and Danny looked away quickly, panting in anguish, his weak plea falling on deaf ears.

He'd been set up and had brought down McCann's wrath again on himself, and god help him, likely on his family. The very people he was trying to protect. Part of Danny might have even been trying to warn him that the empty entryway might have been a trap, too. That it _was_ really a trap and that he should go to his room. Play McCann's sick game and wait for a far better opportunity to get to a cell phone. To do something more discrete while simply biding his time and waiting for McCann's next demands of him. Yet, when he saw the door left half-ajar and heard the voices thrumming softly to him from the main living area, he couldn't stop himself. With his heart in his mouth, Danny had taken the opportunity to simply run. He'd _tried_ and he'd nearly reached the emergency stairwell. Opting for that large door in his fear, bolting like a scared rabbit running blind, he'd gotten as far as laying his hand on the red emergency lever, praying the alarms would sound, before he'd been viciously pulled back by Leon's hands. Spun around like a puppet, he'd been forcibly returned to the penthouse. But instead of immediately being made to apologize to McCann - to service the man on his knees - as he'd first assumed, Danny found himself at another of McCann's sick whims.

"Continue, Leon," McCann said calmly, jerking Danny back from his frightened musings. "First things first … clean him up. Then after, I'll deal with his real punishment."

Danny trembled at the words, wondering if he might find some way to apologize to offset what was to come. Uncaring of himself, Danny reeled in place as he thought about Steve … Grace … Charlie. He flinched, needing to close his eyes as a familiar soft swoosh of shaving cream was dispensed close to his ear and he automatically ducked his head away when Leon's hand came close. The big man's shadow instantly froze and Danny's heart leapt into his mouth as McCann stepped forward aggressively.

"No, bad boy, Danno. Lift your head up, pet," McCann instructed far too calmly as Danny shakily fought to correct his posture. "Now … keep it there … don't move."

Danny audibly breathed in and then out through his nose, the noise discordant in the tiled enclosure. His nostrils flared wide in embarrassment, powerless to avoid the inevitable as Leon's large hand moved deftly across and round his face, smoothing on the white lather from cheek to cheek, under his nose, across his chin. Another swoosh preceded the same treatment of his neck and Danny swallowed hard, trembling in response at the oddity of the sensation.

He thought he was ready then for what would come next. He _knew_ what would be coming. He thought he could cope but his clasped hands slipped apart on Leon's first steady stripe up his neck towards the base of his jawline. The rasp of sharp metal to skin was unnerving and McCann hissed in anger as Danny visibly rocked in place. On reflex, Danny automatically fumbled behind his back, his fingers slick with sweat as he gripped his wrist. He needed to dig his fingernails into his own skin to keep himself steady. He was losing it though no matter how hard he tried; this newest demeaning ritual shocking him to yet another base level of subservience.

He couldn't do it ... he simply couldn't find the focus as McCann's black shadow threatened overhead, combining with that of Leon's to dominate Danny's airspace.

"Head up," McCann hissed again as he loomed closer. "Head _up_ , pet! Shoulder's back … present yourself. Chest _out_. Hands clasped … don't move."

Danny heaved in shattered breath after shattered breath as Leon continued on after the corrections had been delivered and he'd done his best to comply. His lower back burned and his kneecaps rolled painfully on the hard linoleum floor as Leon shaved his cheeks, then moved on to his chin and upper lip. With no choice, Danny quivered, still slow to react as Leon paused here and there, waiting for him to tilt his head just right. Trying to do as he was being told when he failed time and again based on McCann's annoyed _tsks_ of sound and continual instructions to present himself properly.

 _Just a shave,_ Danny tried to tell himself. Just …. just like Steve liked to do every so often … an old-fashioned shave by a skilled barber. An occasional splurge; an indulgence. Bit by bit, with every swipe of the razor blade, Danny was breaking inside though. Any thought of Steve made his stomach clench in pain and Danny finally closed his eyes, his forehead wrinkled in distress. McCann's smell was in his nostrils, his voice, stuck inside his head growling demands and making threats.

Besides, Leon was no skilled barber as he manipulated Danny's chin from side to side with an occasional punctuated order of his own. The big man was a dangerous part of McCann's forces. Likely a competent killing machine and already angry with his menial job, Danny had made it all the worse that morning. With Danny now made to kneel, putting someone of Leon's size and breadth at such an awkward angle was a definite issue. Danny could feel the anger rolling off the big man in titanic-sized waves.

By being bad … by defying McCann and trying to escape that morning … he'd also earned his keeper's unfortunate wrath.

"We will do this until you get it right," McCann promised quietly as Danny shuddered in reaction to Leon's firm pinch of his chin and a growl to lift his head higher, a demand to tilt his head back even more.

"Unless you are told otherwise, you will kneel in my presence, Danno," McCann said as Leon finally finished shaving him and toweled off any remaining foam. "You will kneel just like this for this daily routine under Leon's care... you will obey without question. You _will_ learn to mind your place, pet."

The man's shadow stepped closer as Leon moved away and Danny sucked in a worried breath of air as McCann caressed his cheeks, then his throat, testing the job which Leon had just done.

"Nicely done," the mercenary murmured the compliment, his fingers tracing a delicate line from Danny's cheekbone to his bottom lip. "Just like this every morning now, Leon. If there's any resistance, you're to let me know."

"Yes, sir," Leon said from where he now stood at the sink washing his hands, the razor blade and starting to stow the toiletries. 

Danny briefly closed his eyes as the orders were doled out as if he were nothing. Wishing he had any means to fight back and knowing he had none at all. He had _nothing_ until he might be able to get to a phone or find some other way. Until then, the risks were just far too great. 

"Know this, Danno," McCann whispered softly. His tone was deathly calm. Dangerous. "Do not try my patience, boy. Do not ... or the consequences will be extreme. I do not make mistakes nor do I ever make idle threats. You have failed today. Failed .... and failed badly."

McCann stood just off to the side then, his shadow falling over Danny's face, suddenly silent, just waiting for … _something_.  Terrified by the mercenary's threat and newfound silence, Danny opened his mouth searching for words which wouldn't come, wondering if he should even dare speak.  Was it that McCann wanted him to ... apologize?  To service him? But McCann was too far away and not standing where he usually would and Danny hesitated, confused as no new orders were given. 

Growing ever more fearful, Danny jolted as McCann growled angrily under his breath. His panicked gaze darted about the bathroom and Danny shook his head in helpless confusion until he suddenly realized that he'd once more fallen lax in maintaining his posture.

Ignoring the fire in his lower back and the ache in his knees Danny forcibly clasped his hands even tighter behind his back while he raised his upper body to present himself the way McCann liked. Shoulders back and chest out, he lastly bowed his head as sweat trickled down his back, soaking into the thin material of his t-shirt. Still breathing noisily and shaking from the ongoing strain, Danny picked a spot on the linoleum where a bit of shaving cream had dripped, just an inch shy of McCann's boots. He stared at that spot until the colors blurred into a dull whitish haze, the tan of the heavy boots providing a murky background. 

"Good boy," McCann whispered a moment later.  "You're slow to learn, pet."  His tone was no better in its dire calmness and Danny visibly shuddered at each of the man's words.  "Stubborn. Obstinate. But learn you will."

Danny closed his eyes, trembling in fear as McCann's hand fell to the top of his head.

"Good boy," McCann whispered again as his fingers at first scratched though Danny's hair as if he were petting a dog, tangling harshly in the strands a moment later, hard enough for Danny to wince. 

_"Good, good boy."_

 

_**~ End. ~** _


	4. Missing Scene #4:  Pre Chapter 13 - The Cell Phone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Timestamp at just before the start of Chapter 13 where Danny discovers the cell phone in the folds of the towel - the phone which Leon had planted for him to find there. 
> 
> So, what prompted Leon to give Danny a burner to call Steve in the first place? The muse wondered too ..... and after much pondering, this happened to give that move some added definition and context.

**Missing Scene #4:   the muse wondered what led up to Leon allowing Danny to have access to a cell phone ... _(by I.C.)_**

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

The thought had come to him earlier in the week after another vague, unsatisfying check-in with Agent LaRouche. He'd never quite had faith in her, but now when he needed her the most, she'd become distant and noncommittal. With no direction and feeling as if no one had his back, Leon's mistrust had increased due to her odd behavior patterns. Just maybe then, the thought which had burst into his mind was a defiant one; a type of comeuppance to get back at the woman. Even a version of retribution, though payback wasn't quite Leon's style. So for Leon, the notion he'd formulated and then mentally agreed upon to carry out was extreme, but he found himself in a tenuous predicament as his back was forced up against a wall by one of his own people.

Then again, what would his new plan really hurt ... and who? Surely, not McCann or his stealthy operation. And if he did it right, not even Leon's own role; in fact, getting rid of the 5-0 detective might elevate Leon's position in the organization if McCann needed all hands actively engaged. Which he undoubtedly would.

There was something else driving this notion harder to fruition, too. An odd thing which disturbed him greatly. Leon had come to the realization that somewhere along the way McCann's captive _pet_ had become _Danny_ to him. A name. A real person. Someone if he dared to admit it, Leon actually _liked_ , or at least respected through McCann's ill treatment. So not only a distraction to McCann, _Danny_ was a now a distraction to _him_. Combined with his handler's strange behavior, Leon couldn't afford to be diverted from his own plans. He needed to care of his own ass. Caring for someone else was a far too risky proposition and though Leon had never voiced the man's name out loud, Leon knew that he'd stepped over a far too personal line.

He cursed softly under his breath as a rumble of thunder briefly deafened the intense conversation taking place in the room. By thinking about Danny, Leon was doing it again right then and there. He was thinking about LaRouche, McCann... and Danny. Plotting about Danny's welfare when he should be listening and gaining more intel about his own covert mission to bring McCann's organization down. Just what the hell was he doing? He needed to focus, do his job and protect himself at the same time. Any plan he developed had to have his own best interests in mind at the end of the day. As Leon glanced towards the penthouse's expansive bank of windows, the timing couldn't be more perfect. Except for the occasional flash of lightning, it was pitch outside. Most of the cityscape was darkened by an expansive power failure. Just as it was for McCann, the storm was the perfect cover for him, too; the lack of power and dearth of reliable cell phone coverage or satellite signals were additional boons to be leveraged. Leon's plan was a bit flimsy and lacked some depth, but in all reality, the plan didn't need much to succeed with the odds suddenly in his favor.

Leon fought to bite back a sneer as he eyed his powerful boss and ran a few scenarios through his head. What would McCann really do if he discovered that his pet had been rescued? Or, had escaped? What might McCann even do to Leon if one of those things happened while Danny was in his care? Nothing. Especially if Leon also managed to disappear. As far as LaRouche, he didn't see how that part of his plan affected her at all. Except ... unless? Could he do that, too? He blinked, stunned at this latter option which had never come to him before. The idea was quite frankly, a novel one. _Disappear_? After all this time being so deep under, could he just walk away? Leon fought to keep his facial expression bland as the idea rolled temptingly around inside his head. What the fuck would happen to LaRouche if he did that? How could she explain that away?

 _Disappear._ Leon raised an eyebrow. Hell, why not? For all intents and purposes, what was happening right in front of him was more than enough logical intel to rescue the scientists, stop their development on the bio-weapon and better yet, bring down McCann. So yeah why the hell not? Leon feasibly _could_ disappear, too, and he could do it without INTERPOL's help - he could do it without relying on LaRouche and leave her to answer for it.

Outside the heights of their private domain, an ominous hum reverberated as a fierce wind whipped around the corner of the tall building. Every so often, thunder rumbled and an accompanying flash of light illuminated rain-splattered glass. The vicious setting outside was amplified by the loss of electricity and the eerie quality of the darkened penthouse. And in the half light of the camping lanterns and of a few flickering candles, Spenser McCann's sharp profile was nearly demonic.

He breathed in for three counts and then out for the same, with a distinct purpose to quell a surge of anger as he watched Dylan Walker openly taunt McCann's human pet. Leon knew that he shouldn't care what happened to Danny and yet, he did. On center stage, Leon watched as Danny continued to kneel where McCann had placed him. Back straight and shoulders square, he was struggling to maintain his posture and yet barely reacting to having Walker's crotch less than an inch from his nose.

Leon shifted on his feet as he stood silently by, recognizing the fearful tension rippling through the blond's body. This ongoing situation served no purpose to McCann's greater schemes, but Leon could repurpose it for himself. By positioning Danny for rescue, he could also manipulate a version of his own while still completing the objectives of his mission. It made sense now, all of it and Leon easily imagined how simple it would be once McCann left that night. He nearly smiled as a surge of adrenalin made his fingertips tingle with anticipation.

Under McCann's orders, Leon managed every aspect of Danny's miserable world: when he should go to sleep or rise for the day, the timed showers, the clothing changes, the obedient morning shaves, and the occasional meals if McCann was not there to intervene. In fact, just as Danny had learned to recognize the soft mechanical buzz of the elevator or the mercenary's tell-tale footfall, so had Leon and he was sick of it. What was happening right in front of him that very night was indeed the best opportunity Leon would ever have and he needed to grab it with both hands. Full of resentment about his own reactions to the man's presence, Leon briefly wondered just who had McCann been _training up?_

As he watched the goings on in the makeshift war room and acknowledged Danny's struggle to obey McCann's edicts instead of fighting back, Leon knew that he would act then that very night. His only risk would be how much McCann had gotten into the blond's head. Would Danny be reliable enough for Leon to count on _him_?

"Spense, can I handcuff him? We've still got his cuffs, right? Can I use them on him? Please? His own cuffs? It's fucking poetic, right?"

"Sick fucks," Leon muttered softly when Walker's request was granted. He grimaced when McCann chuckled at his Seconds' antics, before turning back to the pump house's architectural blueprints, his pet momentarily forgotten. Arguing his anger as Danny's eyes seemed to lose even more of their focus with the sharp snap of steel, Leon forcibly tuned out Walker's voice and Danny's defeated expression to focus solely on McCann. Standing close enough to recognize the blueprints for what they were, he could pinpoint the location being discussed as the old pump house over on Ewa. With direct reference to Doctor Mercier and his equally esteemed daughter, Isabelle, Leon now had the physical proof he required. He could put an end to practically everything that very night if he managed it well enough.

In the corner of the room, Danny's quivering posture eventually caught Leon's attention again though and he watched as the detective tried to maintain his awkward position with his wrists now cuffed behind his back. His teeth were gritted, his jaw clenched, his expression wan despite the shadows. Danny was at a breaking point, possibly even beyond it which could spell disaster for his simple plan. Worriedly, Leon considered how much Danny had changed from those first few days; Danny was completely different and Leon knew precisely when it had happened.

There had been one final attempt at arguing Leon's demands he kneel to be shaved in the bathroom, a brief pre-dawn spat which had ended with McCann's unexpected arrival. Something which had even surprised Leon at the time since neither he nor Danny had believed McCann to still be in the penthouse. With McCann's cock inside his mouth and with a sleepily groggy Officer Davies on broadcast audio being given strict orders for the day, McCann's pet had finally been completely tamed. That one day, Davies had carried out particular orders to a 't' and live video had replaced audio to prove it.

_Davies, holding hands with Charlie after school. Davies, leering boldly into the hidden camera on the mantle in Rachel's large living room ... Charlie in his arms, the child laughing in glee as he was playfully tickled, a new stuffed toy in his hands._

All of that had been enough to make Danny completely pliable in all ways.

Now, he only spoke if McCann asked him a direct question. He knew and fully accepted that McCann could - and would - be watching him at all times. That his family would indeed pay for his bad behavior. Without question and oftentimes at the mere rumble of the elevator's motor beneath his feet, Danny would kneel without being told and wait patiently for McCann's arrival. He'd open his mouth to take McCann's dick, and blindly, silently eat from the man's fingers.

Since that day, Danny barely seemed to breathe, his eyes blank. He would kneel and present himself in front of Leon as he would for McCann in order to be clean-shaven. His back straight and his expression distant as Leon shaved him each day. McCann's special _pet_ didn't move or argue; he didn't fight back at all and Leon wondered if Danny might not believe enough in a chance at rescue. Could he give Danny a chance which he'd really take after all this time? Leon scowled because he hadn't considered Danny as the worst variable in his current equations and he bit back a disgruntled noise. He might not be able to rely on McCann's pet if he'd been broken down beyond salvage. Yet something was there as Leon watched Danny fight through the strain of maintaining his posture. When he saw it, Leon narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and his lips twitched in surprise. Fairly vibrating from head to toe from the strain, his face a mix of emotion, Danny was breathing hard but watching McCann's every move through his lashes despite his head being bowed. Leon was sure that he was listening and listening hard. Hanging on every one of McCann's words.

 _Good_. This was _good_ and Leon slightly relaxed as he also focused back on McCann's powerful soliloquy.

" …. It's not on HPD or Five-0's radar, we know that. And INTERPOL are a bunch of useless fuckers. OK, we'll keep them there until their job is done. But I want you two to head up to Ewa and check over the current security provisions in person. No fuck ups or I'll kill you both myself."

Leon almost laughed out loud at McCann's words. Not because he didn't agree, but because he actually _did_. McCann was right about INTERPOL. They _were_ being a bunch of useless fuckers with LaRouche being at the top of the whole damned list! He'd have to think long and hard on who he might be able to go to ... to trust ... no matter what direction he chose. Anger flaring, Leon forced himself to stay exactly where he was as McCann's team began to file from the room. He caught himself and schooled his expression quickly, appearing placid as McCann turned his way, his unforgiving gaze coldly raking Leon from top to bottom.

"You don't like this, do you … you don't approve," McCann drawled slowly just before he chuffed a sardonic sound, long and low in his throat. "Leon, Leon, Leon …. poor Leon. Whatever shall I do with you?"

"Sir?" Leon pushed out between clenched teeth, wondering if he'd been somehow found out. Had he inadvertently done something which communicated his intentions? No, no ... that would be impossible. Trying to not look as guilty as he suddenly felt, Leon forced himself to stay calm.

"Approve? Of ... I'm sorry, Sir … I'm not following?" He stammered on purpose. Unsure about what McCann might be referring to and not wanting to be the fool since he had no rights to approve a damned thing, Leon then held his tongue, biding his time. There was no way McCann could know any part of his silent plotting. This was a ploy then, one of McCann's temperamental moodswings.

"This, Leon," McCann said with a wide sweeping motion to encompass the table and the blueprints which were being carefully stowed away. Leon's mouth momentarily gaped open as he glanced down at the documents. Temper or sarcasm then. Possibly both. _But just where was this going?_ Rather than answering, Leon simply allowed his ignorance to show.

"My mission," McCann stated with a dramatic sigh. "The mission, Leon! You don't approve of not being directly involved … in on ... this very important mission … instead of stuck here, minding my boy. Am I right?"

"Oh," Leon breathed the word out almost stupidly as he sucked in a tendril of air. Visibly and to McCann's complete amusement, he let the tightness bleed from his muscles. His cover was still firmly in place and from McCann's point of view, the comment was a valid one. If one thing was true, Leon despised his current role and everyone knew it.

"I do have better skills than this, Sir," Leon replied, inclining his head in Danny's direction for import. For the first time since he could remember, he allowed his tone to show his annoyance, bristling anew when McCann merely smiled. "I'd be much better in the field, Sir. Than here ... playing nursemaid ... to the likes of him."

"True enough," McCann breathed out softly. He measured Leon again, his expression oddly appreciative, before clapping a friendly hand to his muscular shoulder. "True indeed but that's exactly why I need you here …. you're someone I trust Leon. I've learned to rely on you … value your cool head. And while I know you feel this job rather …. _menial_ …. even demeaning at times, it's important to _me_ and I absolutely value your attention to every detail of Danno's care and well-being. Besides, I daresay that my Danno might even feel safer with you around. Because of that, there will be more than fair reward for you after this mission concludes. Do you understand?"

"Sir?" Leon blurted in surprise and nearly laughed until McCann raised an eyebrow, his look lascivious. The mercenary wasn't joking at all. Leon's orders to ensure McCann's sick appetite was satisfied were tantamount to staying in his favor and the glimmer of a smile fell from Leon's lips. Ending this particular mission suddenly never felt so right as McCann smiled meaningfully. Standing tall, Leon refused to look down as McCann palmed himself hard. He'd seen enough of that to last himself a life-time.

"So please, continue to mind my Danno just as you always have done. Have him cleaned up while I'm gone. A shower. Another shave …. maybe a light snack." McCann's tone was like ice now as he nodded towards the darkened skyline as thunder continued to rumble closely overhead. "I'm sure I will be needing some of his special … _attentions_ … when I return."

Leon nodded as McCann laughed lightly at his own words before he walked away to stand over Danny. He ran his fingers idly across the man's cheek while Leon watched.

"So Danny, are you impressed with my team?"

Outwardly, Leon winced when Danny didn't immediately answer McCann's question. His mind was racing as he cobbled the last details of his covert plan together. Leon wouldn't be left entirely alone in the penthouse. Anywhere from two to four of McCann's guards would be lingering nearby. But they'd be lax and uncaring of his role as babysitter to McCann's slave. Leon looked up and eyed the small rounded object in the ceiling. Since the power was out, the cameras were also out. There'd be no proof at all. But where could he do it? The answer was easy and Leon smiled to himself.

The bathroom, of course.

If McCann wanted his pet cleaned up and readied for his return, the bathroom would be the perfect place. A simple towel; Leon's own burner cell phone. All the detective would need would be a few minutes alone to himself.

"I asked you a question," McCann virtually snarled into Danny's face. The older mercenary had hauled Danny to his feet by an arm, the resultant moan of pain audible. "Are. You. Impressed?"

Leon didn't wait then. He didn't stay long enough to see what would happen next as he heard Danny inhale a strangled breath of air, whatever words he said were lost to Leon as a rush of wind shook the building. What he needed to do, he needed to do that very minute. With McCann preoccupied with his _pet_ , Leon strode rapidly from the room to gather a change of clothes, a bath towel and certain toiletries. When he returned to the main room though, it was Walker who unexpectedly intercepted him with a rude laugh.

"What?" He asked McCann's Second almost too brusquely. But Walker was too preoccupied to care, if he even noticed Leon's curtness or the fact that Leon might have been a bit out of breath.

"Here, unlock him," Walker said as he handed Leon the key to Danny's handcuffs. "Or leave him cuffed up; who the hell cares, right? Can't teach that one enough lessons I say."

Leon cleared his throat but said nothing more in return, only noting that McCann was also half out the door and that Danny was on the floor again. Eyes squeezed tightly closed, Danny had sagged bonelessly to the side, his shoulders slouched, his upper body caved in with exhaustion.

When Leon approached though, Danny's eyes blinked open, instantly tense until he realized who it was and his posture weakened once more. His eyes closed and his shoulders visibly trembled. McCann was right then, _his Danno_ did trust him. At least somewhat.

"He's not going to be back for at least two hours," Leon said carefully after unlocking the handcuffs. He watched as Danny rubbed at his bruised wrists where thin red lines marred his skin. Walker had certainly made sure the links had cut into the man. Leon noticed and kept talking even as one of McCann's leftover guards sidled by them. Worried that Danny was even bothering to listen when he barely peered up at him.

"It's late; after midnight. Shower … have something to eat and then get off your feet. Take advantage of this time … alone."

Eyes glassy, Danny stared owlishly at him. Leon could only glare back, his worry turning into anger. He needed the 5-0 detective to wake the fuck up and get his head back in the game. Purposefully and taking a hell of a chance, Leon glanced to the camera in the ceiling right above where they were. He looked back into Danny's face and didn't try to hide his flush of anger.

 _Fucking get it,_ Leon silently imparted as he looked up once more to the camera's blank lens and willed Danny's eyes to follow his line of sight. _Shit_. Leon cursed to himself when the glassy blue remained mired to his face, the blond apparently confused and oblivious to what he was trying to say.

"Shower," Leon growled out again as that same heavily armed man sauntered back, an amused grin plastered to his face. Whatever the fuck McCann had said or even done to Danny before leaving, had left the blond practically deadened and Leon shook his head, wanting to put a fist through the closest object. Instead, he pointed down the hallway.

"Damned fool! Everything you need is in there … Everything. Towel's on the floor. Hurry it up!"

Finally, Danny reacted to Leon's voice and he slowly clambered to his feet. Leon couldn't help glowering at him as he leaned weakly against a wall before turning away because Danny's expression only said that he was utterly confused. Knowing he'd done all he could do, Leon strode down the hall towards the bathroom, sensing that Danny was following in his wake.

"Shit," Leon whispered to himself as he thumbed the shower on, stepping over the white towel he'd intentionally left on the floor next to Danny's fresh change of clothes. The burner cell was hidden in the folds of the towel; stuck right there in the middle of the thick material. Danny would get his act together once he saw the damned thing and realized what it was that Leon had been trying to communicate to him.

But for now, as Danny stumbled weakly past him, his eyes downcast, Leon had done all that he could.

Now, all that Leon could do was watch the clock and wait for the shit to hit the fan.

_**~ End. ~** _


End file.
